


Rockabye

by SerenePhenix



Series: Voltron Whump Week 2017 [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blood, Fatal Wound, Gen, Hurt, Whump, and some comfort, character having to patch themself up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 17:05:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11810382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerenePhenix/pseuds/SerenePhenix
Summary: Pidge has to stop the bleeding and is terrified. Coran is there every step of the way even when hundreds of miles away.





	Rockabye

Pidge was sucking in air as she hauled herself into the pilot chair.

The scream she let out was the only relief she had when her side felt like it was going up in flames. She sobbed as she forced her arms to not give out as they shook from the effort.

She felt sorry for her girl. Her pristine cockpit was smeared with red – with Pidge’s blood – and it just became more as she slumped into the chair, her lifeblood leaking out of the wound in a constant, thick flow.

Pidge wanted to pretend she was in control and knew what she was supposed to do but her mind, usually sharp and quick, was overtaken by raw and undiluted panic.

The cut was deep, had gone right through skin and muscle like a knife through warm butter, which was ironic seeing as it had not been a blade that had caught her but a piece of shrapnel from an explosion she had triggered.

“Stupid!”

Her outburst only served to aggravate her side further and Pidge’s whole spine went rigid as she rode out the new wave of pain, tears escaping her eyes and leaving tracks on her cheeks where it washed away some of the grime and dust.

She screamed as she pressed her hand firmly against the wound, her brain somehow remembering that it was essential to stop the blood flow, to make sure she did not bleed out.

She only could gasp and pant, her free hand too uncoordinated to get the comms to work.

“Green, please, I need your help.”

She sounded desperate and wasn’t that just what she was. Oh Goood, she hoped Green understood. Understood what she needed without asking her to help along the way.

There was a familiar, deep rumble at the back of her mind, low and displeased but it was hard to tell about what. About Pidge questioning her intelligence? About her Paladin sullying her cockpit? About her pilot being hurt?

The tingle rushing through her limbs told her it was the latter.

Pidge needn’t lift a finger as every system booted up, with the communications being one of the first to light up the screens.

There were no images, surely the others still in the midst of battle but she knew that everyone could hear her.

“Guys,” Talking hurt. It hurt so much. Pidge could not fight the moan her words devolved into, “I’ve been hit.”

The voices of her teammates instantly assaulted her from all sides, their worried shouts mingling with the mayhem of gunshots and blasts of the battles they were still engaged in.

_“What happened? Are you alright?”_

_“What?”_

_“What happened?”_

_“Oh my God!_

_“Pidge!”_

She did her best to concentrate on her leader first.

“I was trying to get away and overloaded a system with my grappler… and it backfired. Literally.”

The last part came out as a groan, her feet uselessly scraping over the metal floor of the cockpit as a fresh wave of pain rushed through her entire body.

_“How bad is it?”_

Pidge wanted to answer but suddenly she could not get the words out, lump choking her as fear suddenly overwhelmed her. She felt out of control.

“I- I don’t know.” She croaked, her throat hurting as she forced out the words. It was getting hard to focus. “It’s bleeding – it’s bleeding so much. I- I can’t.”

It was such a strange feeling, to be aware of the fact that she was breathing too hard and fast and yet feeling unable to do anything about it, as though she were merely a powerless onlooker.

The worried shouts from her friends and teammates bled into each other, mingling with Green’s mental shoves and purring, only further disorienting her, paralyzing her.

What was she supposed to do? What could she do?

Why was her brain failing her now, when it was imperative it didn’t?

She felt herself sliding down in her seat but could not move, her vision starting to tunnel when suddenly there was silence, safe for her Lion’s presence and a single, calm voice speaking through the comms.

“Pidge, can you hear me?”

She looked up, blinking at Coran as he seemed to hover directly at her side, instead of still being on the bridge in the Castle.

He waited for her to answer, merely looking her over but Pidge could not do anything. It was scary.

“Listen.” Coran said, with a calm and assurance they only saw when thing s were dire. “I need you to listen to me. Can you do that?”

Pidge wanted to nod but her neck was stiff and so she blinked at the advisor slow and with purpose and it seemed he caught onto it, probably remembering the discussion they had had about emergencies and how on Earth medics tried to communicate with patients that could no longer speak.

“Good.” He said. It was strange how his voice grounded her. “You have to calm down and you need to breathe. You have to try and start breathing normally again. Take your time.”

She knew that last bit was only to take pressure off her shoulders. They did not have time but it was funny how such a simple yet inane assurance was enough to get her to take a deep breath through her nose, just before she knew it would inevitably hurt before releasing it back through her mouth.

“You’re doing well, Pidge.”

She gave a small chuckle, surprised that she was even capable of doing it.

“What happened to number five?”

The man’s lips quirked just the tiniest bit.

“Would you rather prefer that?”

“No.”

Coran gave her a sage nod.

“Can you sit up?”

Pidge thought it over. She was comfortable right now. Too comfortable and lethargic.

This was bad.

Steeling herself, Pidge nodded, putting her left arm on the armrest to use as leverage, her fingers and nails digging into it as she tried using her legs to position herself in her seat.

All the time, Coran gave her kind encouragements, pushing her but never rushing.

It was a slow, grueling process but she somehow did it. Panting, she sat or rather leaned into her chair. The feeling of the sticky blood that had started to pool under her thighs was disgusting, making her shiver in revulsion.

“Good job, Pidge.”

He looked proud but that could just be Pidge’s vision that was starting to become hazy at the edges. They were running out of time. They had to hurry or Pidge couldn’t tell if she would still be able to make it back to the Castle before she lost consciousness.

“Okay.” she gasped, squeezing her eyes shut to fight back the nausea “What do I do now?”

“You need to open the compartment just beneath the console in front of you. It contains all of the emergency equipment to close wounds. At least until you can get back to us. Then we will take it from there.”

Pidge nodded, her helmet hitting against a hard plate on her seat.

Opening her eyes, glad to find the sight of a medical kit greeting her (or the alien equivalent at least).

“Thanks girl.” She whispered, receiving a warm rush coursing through her cold limbs in response.

Coran reminded her of the task at hand as he instructed her to grab a small device that looked more like a fancy, ergonomic pencil rather than any sort of gadget she would have associated with first aid.

What Coran told her to do afterwards though, was enough to turn her stomach around.

“Pidge, you will have activate this device and then apply it to your wound.” His eyes hardened but not in sternness but sympathy. “It will hurt but you must do it. Do you understand?”

Pidge was scared and shaking but yeah, she did. She really, really did which probably made it ten times worse. She took a huge gulp of air and nodded.

“Grip it tight and it should activate.”

It did with a steady hum and a blue glow they all had grown accustomed to as residents of the Castle.

The tip glowed the brightest and it was one of the most intimidating sights she had ever seen.

She looked at Coran imploringly.

“I’m here and everything is going to be alright.”

She nodded her head jerkily, her hands shaking. She did not want to take away her hand coated in blood. She did not want to do what she was sure was going to happen if she put the tip onto the edge of her wound.

“I can’t.” Tears ran down her face, her voice breaking. “I don’t know if I can do this, Coran.”

Coran’s moustache was quivering a tremendous amount but otherwise it was impossible to tell this ordeal was taking its toll on him as well.

“I wished I could take this from you but you have to be strong again. And then, I promise, we will take care of you. You won’t have to worry about anything.”

She let his voice wash over him, calming her as he kept giving her reasons why this needed to be done. Before she grew too weak to hold onto the device, before she bled out.

“We will help you out of Green and get you to the pods.”

She closed her eyes, doing her best at regulating her breathing.

She inched the device closer to her side.

“It won’t take long. I am sure that once you are out, number two would love to make you one of those coo-keys Allura has told me you fancy.”

The memory of Allura approaching her, and of the ensuing fiasco that was their conversation, manages to make her smile even if it makes her dry lips prick when the skin finally tears burning and she welcomes it since it somehow adds to forgetting about the far more serious wound she has to worry about.

“I will make sure to provide the right beverage for the occasion.”

Hopefully not anymore nunvil. That stuff was nasty and although she would never tell Lance, his observation had been point on: feet and hot dog water.

“Number one will want to make sure you are alright, while number four and Lance will surely be engaging in some contest of sort.”

“Why does Lance get to be called by his name?”

It was a joke to distract herself, an attempt to draw out the moment as much as possible.

“Details. Details.” she could hear Coran say, the amusement palpable in his voice, so much so that she needn’t open her eyes to know.

There was a heavy silence settling over them. She took one deep breath after another.

“Do it.”

As with a Band-Aid she quickly ripped her hand away from her sticky side, hissing and twitching but as soon as she felt a fresh flow of warm blood dampening the cloth of her armor, she brought the device down.

She screamed as a fluid coated the margins of the wound, closing it, burning as it came into contact with her skin and instantly hardened while remaining elastic.

It was a detail her brain picked up upon but that she could spare any energy to waste any thought on.

It felt grueling and slow although she knew that she had done her best to get over with it as fast as possible, her parents and her brother at the forefront of her mind, their smiling faces all she allowed herself to focus on so that she did not give up midway.

Her friends who had to be scared to death.

And Coran, who never stopped talking to her through it all even if she could no longer follow whatever tangent he had gone off of.

It felt like forever, it had to be forever, when finally the wound was closed.

The pen fell out of Pidge’s slack fingers as she slid out of her accelerator chair, landing on the floor on her good side thankfully.

“Pidge. Pidge!”

She gave a high, keening noise, unable to form proper words but wanting to reassure Coran. She opened her eyes a slit. Everything was indistinct and far away but she was too drained to be worried about that circumstance.

Maybe she could stay here. She didn’t think she could force herself to get up again.

There was a rumble and creaking, a sound she had come to know like the hum of her laptop or the voice of her mother.

Stretching out her hand, she fondly caressed over the metal of her Lion as she got ready for take-off.

“Good girl.”, she whispered dazedly, the ghost of a smile on her lips.

Green’s purr was soothing but it was impossible to miss her fear and worry, no matter how hard she may try to hide it from Pidge.

But all Pidge felt was gratitude.

“Let’s go home.”

* * *

 

The moment she stepped out of the pod, she threw her arms around Coran and held on.


End file.
